The Maid of Bag End
by KrystalTheElvishHobbit
Summary: Frodo develops feelings for his mischeivous little maid. Short, but I might continue it. KINKY! Non-slash, but I am sure I'll get flamed for this anyway. Kinky het Frodo short. Don't like it don't read it. The rest may R&R.


Well I'm back. I won't say who I am, but some readers might recognize me when they see the style of this quickie. Some other stories of mine were banned for being too sexually explicit, but I keep writing anyway because I enjoy it and it obviously relieves a lot of stress. I might continue this one. WARNING: kinky hobbit stuff ahead. I don't think its NC-17 qualified though, so FF.net? If you ban this one too, I could point out the many other stories that you let stay, that are MUCH worse than this.  
  
*  
  
He sat at his desk by the window in his study, the early afternoon sun lightly splashing down on his book, eloquently displaying his handsome and firm scripture. The shutters were open, allowing the sun to warm his skin, and the early autumn breeze to brush against his dark, chestnut curls. He hummed an ancient tune he picked up from the high elves in Valinor, and his smooth baritone was accompanied by the sounds of birds chirping in the tree above his rounded window.  
  
But the blissful chatter of nature was soon overthrown by a young and mellow female voice, buoyantly hymning a simple Shire tune, and as it found its way into his keen ears, a smile pursed his lips. He set down his quill, and stuck his head out the window. His sapphire eyes fixed upon the young slender female, washing and hanging his laundry out in his garden, the sun shining down upon a mop of sandy blond hair that was pulled back into a loose bun. He grinned down on her small form, bending over and earnestly scrubbing his shirts and trousers.  
  
For a moment, he thought of leaving her be, and getting back to his work. But it dawned on him that he had no dead line, and really had all the time in the world to get back to his obsessive writing. He found himself going to his back door, and watching her while standing in the entry way, leaning against the side, his hands in his pockets. He laughed inside himself, wondering how long he could stand there before she noticed his presence. Her singing warmed his heart, and unholy thoughts unwillingly entered his head as he watched her bent over the wash bucket, vigorously scrubbing away.  
  
"You're becoming a depraved old fool, Frodo Baggins." He scolded himself in his mind, as he admired her bottom sticking up in the air as she leaned over to fetch more dirty clothes out of the laundry basket. "Having such thoughts at your age, with someone so young and employed by you. Honestly."  
  
She continued her cheery song, seeming to enjoy her work, when one of his shirts came loose from its clothes pins, and fell on the ground. "Oh confound it all!" she grunted to herself. She hastily picked it up out of the dirt, and brushed it off. Frodo eyed her from behind, and couldn't help but grin as his little maid became flustered. She looked it over a few times, before hanging it back up. "I'm not going to wash you again!" she spoke to herself again, feeling confident enough that it was still clean, and he wouldn't notice. Frodo raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, now I know where those unexplained stains have been coming from." An elegant male voice spoke from behind. Her green eyes widened and she spun around to find her Master walking up to her. Her cheeks flushed a vibrant red.  
  
"M.Master Frodo! I didn't know you were there. I didn't mean too.I mean.I didn't want."  
  
"Me to find out that you throw tantrums when washing, and throw my clothes on the ground?" Frodo cut her off, though he was still smiling.  
  
"That never happens sir, honest." His young maid replied, fidgeting with her apron nervously.  
  
"Relax now Isabel love, I'm not upset," Frodo chuckled. "Your lovely voice is what called me out here. I do think I should teach you some elvish songs. They would fit quite well with that wonderful singing voice of yours."  
  
Isabel managed a smile, and cast her eyes to the ground in embarrassment. "I thought you were in your study, so I felt safe to sing to myself. I'm sorry you had to hear my screeching sir, but I tend to do it a lot when I'm alone."  
  
Frodo laughed. "Screeching? Not even close. You should hear how my cousin Merry carries a tune." Isabel giggled, but still felt intimidated by having her Master standing there and watching her work. Frodo noticed her obvious apprehension. "You don't have to feel uncomfortable with me watching you lass. I do think you're quite the admirable little worker." He smiled. Isabel found herself twisting her curly hair, and biting on her bottom lip, while smiling bashfully. "Though." He put his finger up and waved it at her playfully. "If I catch you treating my things recklessly again, young Isabel, I won't hesitate to take you over my knee."  
  
Isabel's eyes expanded, and the crimson color that painted her cheeks now flushed even deeper and ran down to her chest. She cleared her throat, not seeming to find the right words. Only the hint of a faint and nervous giggle reached Frodo's ears. His bow lips spread into a half smile, and he could feel his own cheeks flush slightly too. For a moment, there was silence, and the only thing that was exchanged between them was intimate eye contact. Frodo's intense eyes bored into Isabel's timid ones. They locked looks for a few long seconds, until Isabel bashfully looked away. Frodo's eyes remained on her and so did his knowing smile. He wondered just what went through that little head of hers.  
  
"Okay then love," Frodo broke the silence. "I'm sorry I came out here and crashed your laundry time. I'll leave you be."  
  
Isabel laughed nervously. "Oh Master."  
  
"Frodo, remember," Frodo cut her off again, correcting her in what she was allowed to call him.  
  
Isabel nodded and smiled back. "Sorry Frodo. I'm just embarrassed that you were watching me work. But you have taught me to be more careful." She laughed. Frodo didn't laugh, but only nodded in return, his smile never leaving his face. Isabel admired how the sun illuminated his ivory skin, and the gentle winds blew his dark hair over his eyes. The autumn leaves spilled around his form, matching his chestnut curls. He blended in with the surroundings so well, that it was as if he was the autumn angel, coming forth to put an end to the summer, and call on the first winds of the fall season. Skin like snow, eyes as blue as ice, and hair the color of passing leaves.  
  
Frodo unexpectedly rolled up his sleeves, catching Isabel off guard. She gave him a puzzled look, but he only walked over to her and grabbed her hands, then turned them around, palms up. He ran his thumbs gently across the wrinkled skin of her overworked hands. Even though his touch was casual, it still sent shivers up Isabel's spine. As if she weren't intimidated around him enough, she always felt like she was going to keel over when he stood so close to her. She could smell his scent, the combination of pipe weed, and the organic soap he used to wash with. It was a lovely and natural smell, masculine yet soft, faint but alluring. "Your hands are creased from the soapy water, and the skin is cracked," he suddenly spoke, in a concerned and gentle, almost fatherly voice.  
  
"Yes, well," She reciprocated with a slight crack in her voice. "That's what happens when you stick your hands in soapy water for long periods of time. My mother used to warn us that if we stayed in the tub too long, our skin would fall off. I used to think she was joking, but with as much laundry I have to wash for you, I'm sure I'll be the first to prove the myth true." She grinned.  
  
Frodo's eyes shot up to look into hers. "Getting smart again are we?" he grinned, displaying the slight gap between his perfectly white teeth. That gap always reminded her that even this beautiful, angelic looking creature, could carry his own earthly flaws.  
  
"Oh master," She said, giggling. "You know I kid a lot."  
  
Frodo smiled slyly at her as he began to help her hang up his clothes. "Just another sign that you lack discipline young lady," he winked. "I don't think your daddy succeeded in that area, but right now you're working your way to a smacked bottom," he chuckled. She blushed again, but joined in chuckling. He never failed to make her extra nervous, and she wondered in her mind if he secretly just enjoyed watching her fidget and blush. He obviously couldn't be serious. "Just an old kidder," she thought to herself.  
  
* Time passed quickly as Isabel became more accustomed to her job, and presumably less shy around the master of Bag End. For a while, Frodo happily noted that she wasn't nervous around him at all. There was less fidgeting and more communication between them, giving a new meaning to the master and maid relationship. She brought a ray of sunshine into his life, and the large empty home that was Bag End seemed so much more fulfilling when the sound of her elegant singing filled the halls. He was growing quite fond of their close developing friendship, and this was all the more reason for him to grow suspicious when she began acting nervous and fidgety again out of the blue.  
  
She started coming into work, and greeting him with just a "Hi" in the morning. She wasn't her usual chatty self. One morning she came to Bag End, and began working right away, without even greeting her Master and friend. When he attempted to talk to her, she couldn't even look directly at him, her eyes darting this way and that to avoid his intense gaze.  
  
One day Frodo had decided that enough was enough. He was growing agitated and secretly growled when she ignored him. Their relationship was turning into a regular work relationship, and Frodo did not like this at all. He was becoming much too affectionate towards her. So he called her to his study one afternoon, rehearsing what he was going to say in his mind when he confronted her.  
  
"You called me, Mr. Frodo?" She asked innocently, wiping her hands with a cloth. But something in her eyes wasn't quite right, and the sharp Baggins saw it right away.  
  
He got up from his chair and pulled it away from his desk, to the middle of the room. "Sit down," he motioned, patting the wooden chair with his hand. He gave her a small smile, to show her that he wasn't angry as he picked up her growing nervousness. She did what she was told, and sat down in his chair.  
  
"Is something the matter Frodo? Did I do something wrong?" She asked, confused, watching his mannerisms closely.  
  
"No, Isabel, at least I don't think you did. That's one thing we're going to find out right now," He said, rather seriously. Her eyes widened, and she exhaled slowly. His keen ears heard that too. "Why have you been acting so strange dearest? Is there something the matter? Something I should know about? You have hardly acknowledged me all week."  
  
She took another deep breath, exhaling slowly again. She felt the blood rushing to her cheeks, and the butterflies invading her stomach. "I'm sorry Mr. Frodo, I've just been under a lot of stress lately. At home and all," She replied, her voice a bit shaky.  
  
Frodo never took his consuming eyes off of her as he addressed her with gentle force. "And you feel you can't talk to me about it? I hope you realize you can tell me anything Isabel," He said intently.  
  
Isabel felt the panic rise to her throat. She found herself gradually standing up. "I'm sorry Mr. Frodo. I really can't discuss this right now. May I get back to work please?" She practically begged with her eyes.  
  
Frodo let out a heavy sigh. "Isabel. As your master, I would like to know what troubles you. I want you to feel comfortable around me. I don't want you to work around someone you're afraid to speak too," He said gently. His eyes bore into hers and she diverted them to the ground to avoid making eye contact again. But he put a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head to look back into her eyes. "Tell me," he said softly, "Is there another lad?" He asked gravely.  
  
She looked at him a bit dumbfounded, not expecting that question at all. "N.no. No Mr. Frodo, why would you ask that?"  
  
Frodo sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and running a hand through his thick brown curls. "Isabel," He said opening his eyes again. "You must know that I have grown quite fond of you. Extremely fond in fact. But.but if you have a beau already, I would still like to keep our wonderful friendship. I must admit, that I'd be rather jealous, but I'm not the spiteful type. I am a gentle-hobbit."  
  
Isabel felt more guilt rise within her heart. She couldn't bear to look at him now. This was torture. "I must get back to work sir," she said tersely, and turned in the other direction swiftly. And that's when a 'clank!' was heard. And as the golden knickknack dropped to the ground, so did her heart. She stopped dead in her tracks, cringing and praying. But she could already predict the look Frodo must have had on his face now. She turned around slowly, to find that Frodo had already bent down and picked up the small elven statue she had been concealing in her dress. Another small thing he wouldn't have noticed was missing until later. He knew something was amiss, but he didn't want to believe it was her. Deep down he had his suspicions, but his blinding affection for her wouldn't allow him to see it. She watched as his shocked expression grew to a more serious and upset one.  
  
She looked at the object he got from Rivendell, and then to him. Her mouth opened but no words were able to get out. Finally, the awkward silence was broken by Frodo. "So!" he said at last a tinge of anger in his voice. "Here is the explanation right here!" He nearly growled.  
  
"Mr. Frodo I.."  
  
"I had noticed things missing, but I didn't believe that you were the culprit, young, sweet Isabel. I didn't want to believe it. What is the meaning of this?!" He hissed, placing the statue down hard on his desk, and taking a step towards her, resulting in her taking a step back.  
  
"I..I.I." She stuttered, and took another step back as he took another forward. "I needed it. I needed the money. My brother told me to do it. We're poor Frodo, and my mother is sick and."  
  
"And you couldn't have asked me for a raise?!" He cut her off again. "Instead you had to gain my trust, then shatter it to pieces by stealing behind my back?!" He fumed, eyes narrowing and appearing more deadly by the second.  
  
Isabel felt herself shaking. "I wanted too, sir, but.but."  
  
"Yes? But what?!" he growled.  
  
"But I was afraid!" Isabel said quickly. "My brother and his friends told me things about you. how you were." She watched his eyes widen angrily, and she let out a small scream as he advanced on her quickly grabbing her wrist firmly, but his grip did not hurt.  
  
"What have they said about me?" he asked grimly.  
  
"That you're mad Frodo," She managed to peep, feeling tears threatening to invade her eyes. 'That you're rich, and mad and that you probably would get angry if I asked, you bein so rich and all."  
  
To her surprise, his expression softened, but he still held her wrist. "You thought I may be mad, so you were afraid to ask me?" She nodded, frowning, fear still apparent on her face. "You took their word over mine, and you're afraid of me." He felt her shake in his grasp. He looked at her seriously. "You are afraid of me," he said again. It wasn't a question, "Because of what others have said. I thought I had gained your trust, but it was broken by gossip. I can never trust you again."  
  
"P..please don't fire me Mr. Frodo. I need this job. Please," she begged, and Frodo noticed her eyes beginning to rain. "P.."  
  
"Shhhhh," He put a finger to her lips. His grip on her wrist tightened and his face showed that he was still upset. She felt confusion and fear overwhelm her, as he began to tug on her arm, leading her to his couch. She gasped when he sat down and pulled her down with him, not allowing her to protest his physical demands. She opened her mouth, but again, no words came out as she watched him grit his teeth, glaring at her angrily. His expression told her that something was about to happen.  
  
And her instincts were right. In a matter of seconds, Frodo had yanked on her arm, forcing her to lye face down over his lap. He quickly hugged an arm around her waist and suddenly, like a bolt of lightening, gave her a pert smack on the bottom. She was so stunned by it that she was speechless. Another sharp smack over her dress rang in her ears, and she sucked in her breath, completely stunned and amazed at how much sting Frodo produced over her clothes with his slender elvish like hand. She heard herself let out a small scream as he swiftly threw up her skirts and landed another brutal spank on her bottom over her thick knickers. This instinctively made her attempt to get up, but the former ring bearer's strength was no match for the petite maid. He held her down easily and effortlessly, and she kicked her little legs, whimpering and anticipating another callous slap.  
  
Frodo raised his hand again, his teeth bared, and was about to smack her again, when he stopped in mid-air. It just dawned on him what he was doing. He was spanking a grown hobbit maiden. His hand came down slowly, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He rested his hand on her bottom for a moment, and he could feel her quivering at his touch. Slowly, he pulled her dress back down and smoothed it over her bottom.  
  
He helped the bewildered girl up off of his lap, and gazed into her frightened young face. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice still a bit angry. "Despite what you have done, and despite that I feel you deserve to be punished, that was not proper of me. I will not fire you. However, I feel our relationship should remain as strictly master and maid from now on. I will be watching you closely, and you are no longer allowed to address me by my first name. Mr. Baggins or Master will do. Now I suggest you get back to work Miss Isabel," He noticed her bottom lip quivering.  
  
"Mr. Frodo I." She began, but he put a finger to her lips.  
  
"There is nothing else to be said, and you have already addressed me by the wrong name young lady," He said sternly without emotion. "The relationship we have had before can no longer be, because I can no longer trust you," Tears started to well in her eyes again. "You brought this on yourself Isabel. And you're lucky I came to my senses before I went any further. Very lucky indeed young lady. Now get back to work," he ordered.  
  
"But."  
  
Frodo stood up abruptly and forced her to stand up as well. "Back to work young lady, before I change my mind about firing you," He snapped, turning her around and pushing her towards the doorway of his study. "I'll be in my study if you need to discuss anything work related, but do not come to me for anything else. I will be monitoring your performance," He said, slamming the door after she had walked out of it. She started sniffling, tears slipping down her cheeks as she realized she had just destroyed something that meant so much to her. Something that could have been more.  
  
Inside his study, Frodo sat back down at his desk, and his face was softened where she couldn't see. He let out a heavy, depressed and disappointed sigh, as he grabbed his quill, attempting to go back to writing. The room felt suddenly gloomy and dark. Nothing but the sounds of wood settling was heard, and Frodo's saddened expression meshed well with the bleak surroundings.  
  
*  
  
For the next week, both Frodo and Isabel were miserable, but neither dared let the other know. Frodo had never felt so alone, and only spoke to Isabel if he needed to scold her for not cleaning something right, or was watching her to make sure she didn't steal anything else. The rest of the time, he consumed himself with work, now his turn to avoid making eye contact with her, or any direct personal contact at all. He didn't want to remind himself about how much he cared about her, as he knew she would never feel the same. Part of him was telling him to just fire her, but he didn't have the heart. Instead, he would just avoid her at all costs while she worked around him.  
  
Bag End almost seemed to be downright black now. There was no more playful flirting, no more singing in the halls, no more innocent but close and friendly touching. Isabel attempted to apologize again several times, but he would always interrupt her. "If you don't have anything to discuss that is work related Miss Isabel, then speak no further," he would say, then walk away, leaving her feeling depressed and lonely and as small as an ant. All it did was increase her guilt, and make her job.her life.miserable.  
  
*  
  
Another few days had passed, and it was the night that Isabel had off. Frodo sat in his arm chair by the fire, a book of old shire tales in his hand, his lips suckling on his pipe earnestly. The fire reflected in his sad cerulean eyes, as he lazily read his book. He slouched down in his chair, and didn't even bother to get up as he heard a knock at his door. The banging continued for a while, until it became louder, and then downright annoying. Frodo closed the book angrily, put out his pipe, and stomped to the door prepared to yell at anyone standing on the other side. He really was not in the mood for company.  
  
He yanked it open expecting to find Pippin there, as no one kept knocking annoyingly except his younger cousin, but found a gloomy looking Isabel instead. "P..please. Can I come in?" She said, her teeth chattering as it was quite cold outside. She didn't have to say anything further, as Frodo was already pulling her inside, a gust of wind seeping its way into the room and whipping about his chestnut curls. He pushed the door closed, and rubbed his forearms, feeling a taste of the weather outside. He guided her to his arm chair, making her sit in front of the fire.  
  
He left the room abruptly and came back with a blanket, then wrapped it around her shoulders, rubbing them warm like a concerned father. He stood above her, his hands in his pockets, allowing her to get warm. For a little while there was silence, and only the crackling of the fire was heard, until it was accompanied by the smooth voice of Frodo. "What are you doing here?" he asked suddenly.  
  
She looked up at him expecting him to be angry, but his face was only full of concern. "I.I.I want. I want," She blubbered, blushing, feeling embarrassed as she sounded like a little girl trying to speak. So she felt she had to speak through actions instead of words. She got up from his chair, and walked over to him nervously, then she hugged him, burying her face in his chest. To her surprise, he welcomed the hug, and immediately pulled her closer, his strong arms warm and comforting. "I just want you to forgive me. I want our relationship to be close again. I've been so miserable." She whispered.  
  
He rubbed her back, and brought his lips to her ear, his breath tickling her skin. "Oh, Isabel, I've missed talking to you so much," he whispered. 'I've missed YOU so much. Just enjoying your presence. I want to forgive you. I want to trust you. I care about you far more than you know."  
  
"Then let's forget this ever happened," She said, entangled in his arms. Frodo's embrace tightened. He had wanted to hold her for so long. Hold her close, like this, forever. "Frodo. I.I need to ask you something else." She said in a tiny, almost childlike voice.  
  
"Yes darling?" Said Frodo, still rocking her in his arms.  
  
"Do you.do you want to punish me?" she asked nervously.  
  
Frodo pulled away from her and looked into her eyes seriously. "I want you to punish me, for what I have done to you," She whispered, before he said anything. Frodo swallowed, and his eyes weren't the only things enlarging.  
  
"I will punish you, if you still feel you need cleansing darling. But are you sure?" He asked seriously. She nodded, face going a bit pale. He smiled a little knowing she was nervous, and knowing how brave she must have been to bring it up. But he knew that this just might bring them closer. "Very well," he said, dropping his voice lower and sounding a bit more stern. He had to struggle with himself not to smile, as he knew she wanted to please him. "But I must warn you, that if you agree to this, you are fully in my power, and I will not stop until I think you have learned your lesson. I did and still do feel that you must be punished for stealing from me and breaking my trust. Are we clear young lady?" He asked gravely. She gulped and nodded.  
  
He took her arm, his grip firm and demanding without hurting and led her to his study. There, he closed and locked the door. He released her arm, and looked her over. A single candle was lit in the room, and it sent a glow upon his face, which was now grave and unmoved, giving her chills and making her heart beat rapidly. He walked over to her again, and pulled her into another embrace. His arms slid around her slowly, and he closed his eyes, just loving the feeling of her body against his. He brushed a bit of hair off of her neck, and she gasped when she felt him starting to gently kiss it. It gave her goose bumps.  
  
"I'm sorry I have to punish you lil one," he said in between planting kisses on her neck, "but I think you know you deserve this."  
  
'Yes master Frodo," she said in a tiny voice, and he smiled softly to himself. He felt guilty that this was arousing him to no end. Her cute little submissive voice, her willingness to present herself before him and accept his discipline. It was the greatest gift anyone could give to him as far as he was concerned. "Will it hurt?" She asked rather scared.  
  
Frodo's smile broadened. She sounded so cute and innocent, like a nervous little girl. "Yes darling, it will hurt a bit. It has too, or it wouldn't be a punishment. But I promise I'll go easy on you," he cooed in her ear. She swallowed hard. He turned her towards his desk, and at first, he felt her resisting a bit. But she quickly submitted as he said "Isabel" warningly. Slowly, he bent her over his desk, guiding her hands so that they were both placed flat on the wood in front of her. Her little bottom felt like it was sticking up in the air, a perfect view for him, which already made her feel incredibly vulnerable.  
  
"Now Isabel," Said Frodo, placing a slender but firm hand on the small of her back, "Just to make sure that you know, I am going to spank your little bottom bare. Yes it will hurt, and it will be embarrassing for you. Embarrassing indeed, having your bare bottom spanked by your master like a naughty little girl," he heard her whimper as the humiliation was already starting to sink in, "But just know darling, that I love you. I have loved you for a long time. And after this is over, you will thank me as you will be fully forgiven, and things will be back to normal." Her heart leaped as he had said those words, but then dropped back down to her stomach as she felt him slowly lifting her skirts up.  
  
Frodo already felt his loins acting up as he pulled her skirts up all the way and folded them across her back revealing her undergarments. Isabel kept her eyes on the wall before her, noticing his elegant shadow flickering from the candle light. It looked so big. It was much bigger than the owner of the shadow was, but she already felt extremely tiny right now, and that didn't help.  
  
Then Frodo took his hand off of the small of her back, and slipped both of them into the waistband of her undergarments. Then slowly, as if he was savoring this moment, he started to slip them down off of her hips, revealing her white little bottom underneath. Down, down they came, and the further they came down, the more aroused Frodo got. As they came down to her knees, something else went up. And Frodo smiled because no protests or attempts to escape came from her direction. She completely submitted to him, and his arousal increased even more so because of that simple fact.  
  
He placed his left hand back on her back, knowing she would start squirming once he got started. "You have such a beautiful bottom Isabel. So small and white like ivory," Frodo whispered and he felt her flinch as he began to rub her vulnerable cheeks. He felt his breathing quicken a little. Here was her bare bottom, sweet and soft and sticking out, awaiting his punishment. Her feminine area was visible before him, and he had to keep himself from staring at that as well. It wasn't exactly proper of him, he thought to himself.  
  
Isabel saw the shadow of his arm raise and she braced herself, her cheeks clenched, bottom quivering. He landed the first smack on her naked bottom, skin against skin, and she felt it vibrate through her entire body, the slapping sound bouncing off the walls. She sucked in her breath as the sting sank in, and her face flushed crimson, knowing he was getting a perfect view of her jiggling little cheeks.  
  
"I don't ever want to catch you stealing, or lying to me again my little lass," Frodo scolded, whacking her cheeks again. She was handling this well so far. No squirming yet. He started out lightly, and began smacking each cheek at a time, the imprint of his hand forming on her bottom. He guiltily admired how cute her bottom looked as it turned a light shade of pink. He stopped and rubbed her bottom, letting the sting settle before he continued, then another abrupt "smack!" causing her to gasp, and she subconsciously reached back to protect her bottom.  
  
Frodo caught her petite wrist quickly. "No Isabel," he scolded gently, then placed her hand back on the desk and rubbed it as he spanked each cheek hard two more times. A faint moan escaped her lips. "As long as you are on my property, you will behave and treat me and my things with respect," he said, and gave her bottom five hard spanks in a row with no warning. She whimpered and she had to stop herself from reaching back again, knowing it would only result in harder smacks. "And that means that if you act like a child, I will definitely treat you like one. Always." *smack!*  
  
She jolted a little, and her bottom was beginning to feel like it had been sitting in a fireplace. Frodo gave her a good one on her lower bottom, where the slope met the thigh. She couldn't help but cry out as he hit her most tender spot. Eventually, as the heat is her bottom grew, she began to squirm and couldn't help but kick her little legs, but Frodo held her down more firmly, and continued to spank hard and steadily. "Be still young lady," he commanded, even though he thought it was quite cute how she was squirming and whimpering like a naughty little girl. He couldn't help but feel guilty over that.  
  
Every time he took his hand away from her bottom, she inhaled deeply, anticipating another hard smack. Frodo alternated between hard and light smacks, and sometimes a few sharp slaps all at once, raining down on her vulnerable little bottom. Frodo felt himself panting, but it was not over exhaustion from spanking her. Oh no, he could go for hours upon hours with doing that, but he knew Isabel wouldn't take a liking to that. He wiped a bit of sweat off his brow, as his cheeks flushed, admiring just how lovely she looked.  
  
Slowly, he rested his fingers on her bottom, and began messaging her trembling cheeks, tickling the slopes, causing her to gasp. He still held her down firmly by the small of her back, and he didn't quite notice that his crotch was grinding into her side. He quickly pulled away a little, hoping she hadn't felt his arousal underneath his trousers. He definitely did not want her to think that he was depraved. "This is only a first lesson young lady. As long as you are my maid, I will punish you if I have too. So I suggest you take my word before anyone else's. I would never hurt you lil one. But I do know when a naughty girl needs a good spanking." *Smack!*  
  
"Ah!" She gasped. He had landed a sharp whack over both her cheeks at the same time. She had to keep herself from digging her nails into his desk, and though she had done well, she couldn't hold back the tears that somehow found their way into her soft eyes.  
  
Frodo hugged an arm around her waist, noticing that she was starting to attempt squirming her way out of his grasp. But he would not allow her to get up until he was finished. He wanted to make sure she knew who the Master of Bag End was. His hand seeped its way underneath her belly, and he stroked the soft flesh tenderly, tickling her belly button a little. He gave her a couple of light pats, showing her that he could be gentle, and nurturing, but then landed a few more sharp slaps, to also let her know that he would punish her if she needed it. But he rubbed out the sting immediately after, showing her that he was a strict but fair disciplinarian.  
  
*Smack smack smack!*  
  
She cried out, feeling the tears slip down her cheeks as he continued to spank and rub. He bit his lip, the guilt threatening to drown him. Finally, she could take no more, and Frodo's keen ears picked up a tiny voice, not much different from that of a little girl's. "P.please Master Frodo. I'm sorry. I will never steal from you again. J.just stop. Please," She whimpered shakily.  
  
A very strong feeling overwhelmed Frodo as he heard her tiny little voice begging. His arousal was not purely sexual. Intense emotions overpowered him, and already he felt himself lifting her off the desk and into his arms. He carried her to his living room, then sat down in his arm chair with her in his lap. Her eyes were closed as she sniffled, and little teardrops dripped down her cheeks. Frodo kissed them away gently, his soft lips sending a tingle through her skin. She didn't seem to notice that her undergarments had fallen to her ankles, and she was still bare from the waist down. Frodo rocked her lovingly in his protective arms, and reached a hand underneath to rub her bottom softly.  
  
She loved the sound of his heart beating beneath his breast, and the smell of pipe weed still lingering in the fabric of his shirt. She couldn't seem to move. She felt comforted and glued to his arms. No one had ever held her so tenderly, so protectively, before. She felt safe. Like a tiny, innocent little girl who had not yet been forced to deal with the troubles of the world. And for a moment, Frodo was her main protector, her guardian. The taste of a "daddy" she never had, and she clung onto him for support, never wanting to let him go. She needed him. Needed his firm hand. Needed him to take care of her, to nurture her, and to love her always.  
  
"I love you Isabel," Frodo broke the gentle silence as he whispered into her ear. "I want you to move in with me."  
  
"Move in Master?" She muffled in a tiny voice, her nose still nestled in the fabric of his shirt, "Tonight?"  
  
"As soon as Possible," Frodo whispered, kissing the top of her head. "But," He brought his lips closer to her ear. "There will be rules and conditions for you to follow. I won't hesitate to bare your little bottom every time you cross me darling little one. Will you accept these conditions?"  
  
A small smile formed on her lips. "Yes Master Frodo."  
  
Frodo smiled tenderly down at his darling little maid. "Good," he whispered contently. "But that is not all I seek. I seek your full heart. I want you to be my bride, and stay with me always." The simple comfortable sigh that escaped Isabel's lips was enough of an answer Frodo needed. He rocked her in his arms for the rest of the night until she drifted to sleep, the sound of the wind blowing gently against the rounded window of Bag End. 


End file.
